Works

Tune - "The bonnie lad that's far awa."


I.

O how can I be blythe and glad,
Or how can I gang brisk and braw,
When the bonnie lad that I lo'e best
Is o'er the hills and far awa?...

Tune - "John Anderson, my jo."


I.

How cruel are the parents
Who riches only prize,
And, to the wealthy booby,
Poor woman sacrifice!
Meanwhile the hapless daughter...

Tune - "Cauld Kail in Aberdeen."


I.

How lang and dreary is the night,
When I am frae my dearie;
I restless lie frae e'en to morn,
Though I were ne'er sae weary....

To a Gaelic air.


I.

How long and dreary is the night
When I am frae my dearie!
I sleepless lie frae e'en to morn,
Tho' I were ne'er sae weary.
I sleepless lie frae e'en to morn,...

Tune - "Jo Janet."



I.

Husband, husband, cease your strife,
Nor longer idly rave, sir;
Tho' I am your wedded wife,
Yet I am not your slave, sir.
"One of two must still obey,...

Tune - "I'm o'er young to marry yet."


I.

I am my mammy's ae bairn,
Wi' unco folk I weary, Sir;
And lying in a man's bed,
I'm fley'd it make me eerie, Sir....

Tune - "I do confess thou art sae fair."


I.

I do confess thou art sae fair,
I wad been o'er the lugs in love,
Had I na found the slightest prayer...

I.

I dream'd I lay where flowers were springing
Gaily in the sunny beam;
List'ning to the wild birds singing,
By a falling crystal stream:
Straight the sky grew black and daring;...

Air - "The blue-eyed lass."


I.

I gaed a waefu' gate yestreen,
A gate, I fear, I'll dearlie rue;
I gat my death frae twa sweet een,
Twa lovely een o' bonnie blue....

Tune - "I'll gae nae mair to yon town."



I.

I'll ay ca' in by yon town,
And by yon garden green, again;
I'll ay ca' in by yon town,
And see my bonnie Jean again....

You're welcome, Willie Stewart,
You're welcome, Willie Stewart;
There's ne'er a flower that blooms in May,
That's half sae welcome's thou art.

Come bumpers high, express your joy,...

Old Winter, with his frosty beard,
Thus once to Jove his prayer preferr'd,
What have I done of all the year,
To bear this hated doom severe?
My cheerless suns no pleasure know;...

Fair maid, you need not take the hint,
Nor idle texts pursue:-
'Twas guilty sinners that he meant,
Not angels such as you!

I.

I murder hate by field or flood,
Tho' glory's name may screen us:
In wars at hame I'll spend my blood,
Life-giving wars of Venus.

II.

The deities that I adore...

There's death in the cup, sae beware!
Nay, more, there is danger in touching;
But wha can avoid the fell snare?
The man and his wine's sae bewitching!

Here lies
ROBERT FERGUSSON, Poet.
Born, September 5, 1751;
Died, Oct. 15, 1774.

No sculptured marble here, nor pompous lay,
"No storied urn nor animated bust;"...

Tune - "For a' that, and a' that."


I.

Is there, for honest poverty,
That hangs his head, and a' that?
The coward-slave, we pass him by,
We dare be poor for a' that!...

Tune - "The Maid's Complaint."


I.

It is na, Jean, thy bonnie face,
Nor shape that I admire,
Altho' thy beauty and thy grace
Might weel awake desire....

Tune - "Jamy, come try me."


Chorus.

Jamie, come try me,
Jamie, come try me;
If thou would win my love,
Jamie, come try me.

I.

If thou should ask my love,...

I.

True hearted was he, the sad swain o' the Yarrow,
And fair are the maids on the banks o' the Ayr,
But by the sweet side o' the Nith's winding river,
Are lovers as faithful, and maidens as fair:...